


to build a (pineapple) home

by opus (travelingsymphony)



Series: a year in writing [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: (i personally think it's happy but who knows), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Crack Treated Seriously, Family Issues, Friends With Benefits, Getting a Pet, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, References to Depression, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29765772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/travelingsymphony/pseuds/opus
Summary: Only Choi San would have grown up with a crab as a pet,Hongjoong thinks.What an absolute ridiculous idea, a crab? You have got to be kidding me.But when Hongjoong turns back to look at Jongho, his smile is even bigger than before. His stomach sinks as the youngest starts to bounce up and down in his chair like a 5 year old.“No,” He says sternly. “You are not getting me a crab.”(Or, Hongjoong gets a crab and it's—he'sthe least of his worries).
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Kim Hongjoong
Series: a year in writing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135334
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34





	to build a (pineapple) home

**Author's Note:**

> this fic makes literally no sense, and yet here i am positing it. for a story that was supposed to be 5K or less, this really turned out to be a monster that i simply couldn't control. 
> 
> phat fucking rip, enjoy!

  


  


“You know what hyung, you should get a pet.”

Hongjoong looks up from his dinner with an eyebrow raised. He continues to slurp his Pad Thai noodles down before he chokes on them. The sweet sauce drips from the corner of his lips, falling onto the cheaply made table that he is currently leaning over. Hongjoong groans at the sight and reaches for a napkin to clean it up before it gets too sticky. 

But of course, the equally cheap napkin gets practically glued to the table the second it touches the liquid. Figures. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Hongjoong asks after swallowing and wiping his own face clean. 

Jongho looks at him with his head tilted with an expression of: _are you kidding me,_ written all over his face. Wooyoung and San giggle from the couch as they trade crab wontons back and forth like they are conspiracing in a weird best friend ritual. 

Before Jongho can respond to Hongjoong’s question, Kuki pushes her big, black snout onto the creaking table. Her eyes shine as she smells the sweet scent Hongjoong’s food and before he knows it, half of his noodles become her dinner as well. 

“Kuki! You have to be fucking joking. That’s not your food!” Jongho squawks as he gets up from his seat. He rounds the table in a blink of an eye and pulls on his Goldendoodle’s collar with a gentle sort of resilience. 

He leads her into his bedroom and Kuki already knows it is kennel time. Hongjoong watches her joyfully get into her cage and Jongho looks incredibly tired. He doesn’t even lock the kennel door, instead he puts her favorite squirrel toy in the cage with her. 

“So what were you saying about me getting a pet?” Hongjoong snorts as he picks at his noodles. They are sort of covered with dog drool now so he isn’t all that hungry anymore. 

“Sorry about that.” Jongho apologizes as he sits back down pretending like Hongjoong hasn’t seen Kuki do that a million times over. 

The younger offers some of his noodles but Hongjoong declines due to the unholy level of spice he eats his food at. If only Seonghwa was here, he would’ve gotten the same order as him and definitely would have had leftovers.

Alas, he has to do ‘real work’ because he is a ‘real adult’ now in the ‘real world’. Hongjoong thinks Seonghwa just speaks in boring now that he has graduated and can’t drink Irish Trash Cans on weekdays with them anymore. 

_God strike me down if I ever sound like him,_ Hongjoong thinks as he closes the lid on his ruined take-out. 

“I mean… a pet could be fun. You love Kuki, you know when she doesn’t steal your food. And you get along with Yeosang’s cat just fine!”

Hongjoong sighs at the statement. Migung really is a cute fucking cat. Yeosang has had her for about a month and a half now after adopting her on a whim (more like a mental breakdown but Hongjoong digresses). 

He never had the opportunity to grow up with a cat due to his mom’s intense allergy towards them so he’s been enjoying the experience for what it’s worth. 

That being said, he is now overly fond of the kitten. But seriously, how couldn’t he? She’s the size of a tissue, blacker than a new moon night, and has eyes so green that they put every house plant Jongho owns to shame. 

“See! I know that look on your face,” Jongho points at his hyung with a big smile. Hongjoong frowns immediately. “You’ve been dying to get a dog anyways.”

“Well yeah, but remember the whole: _my parents will stop paying my rent if I get an animal,_ deal we got going on?” 

Jongho slumps over. He looks more torn up over it than Hongjoong does. Sure, Hongjoong has wanted to get another pet since his childhood dog, Minho, passed away right before his freshman year in college. 

It’s been three years since the loss and he has started to heal from that separation at least. But a deal’s a deal, no dog or cat or anything until he is out of college with his Bachelor’s degree. And if his mom will have it her way, his Master’s degree as well. 

“What about… what about a fish?” Jongho questions, pointing over to his tank that sits right by the tv. 

Clyde swims as well as you expect from a beta; aimlessly. Hongjoong rolls his eyes when he sees the fish add a mouthful of bubbles to his bubble nest that Jongho refuses to clean.

 _It means they are happy, my ass._

“I’m not getting a fish for fuck’s sake.” He mumbles, wishing he had his food just to push it around. 

“Oh come on, why not? They’re cool!” He can see Jongho trying his hardest to talk him into something. Hongjoong can _confidently_ say that a fish is the exact opposite of what he wants right now. 

“Fish are kind of a dumb pet.” Wooyoung remarks and Hongjoong gives the younger a smile with a thumbs-up. Case closed. 

Jongho gives him a death glare and Hongjoong knows if Wooyoung was at arm's length, the youngest would have had him in a chokehold before he could even say a word. 

“What about a crab?”

Hongjoong turns his head to look at San. The younger watches the tv (he is on an iCarly binge right now) intensely like he hadn’t said anything at all. A crab?

“A crab? Seriously?” 

San looks at Hongjoong with a grin on his face, it sends a shiver down the older’s spine because it’s that kind of smile that shows more than what meets the eye. And San being San, he would know a lot more about something like a crab than Hongjoong ever would. 

“Yeah! Red claw crabs are like, really cool. They don’t get that big and you only need to feed them fish food and stuff. It was my first pet as a kid and my brother’s first pet too. I had a blast with them.”

 _Only Choi San would have grown up with a crab as a pet,_ Hongjoong thinks. _What an absolute ridiculous idea, a crab? You have got to be kidding me._

But when Hongjoong turns back to look at Jongho, his smile is even bigger than before. His stomach sinks as the youngest starts to bounce up and down in his chair like a 5 year old. 

“No,” He says sternly. “You are not getting me a crab.”

The youngest’s teeth are showing and Hongjoong feels like he is in the presence of a Great White shark. 

“It’s either a fish or a crab, hyung.” 

Hongjoong wants to slam his head onto the table, but he is still afraid he didn’t clean up the Pad Thai sauce well enough and he just washed his hair like an hour ago. Once Jongho gets an idea in his head, there is no stopping him. 

Newton has got nothing on Jongho. If incertia was a person, it would be this muscle pig of a freshman.

“Do _not_ buy me a fish.” Is all he says in the end. Jongho fist bumps the air as if Hongjoong agreed (which clearly he didn’t) and in the living room, Wooyoung and San high-five each other. 

Suddenly Hongjoong gets the feeling like he was a part of a preplanned intervention rather than their normal late-night dinner conversations. 

_Nevermind God about the Seonghwa thing, maybe he had the right idea._

Kuki barks from Jongho’s bedroom, and if it could be translated from overeager dog to Korean, it would definitely read something like: _you are so fucked._

And honestly, Hongjoong couldn’t agree more.

  


  


Weeks go by and Hongjoong forgets all about the crab conversation. 

Finals are coming in a couple weeks so his focus is directed to studying, drinking enough coffee to kill a small Victorian child, and sleeping 5 hours a night. It isn’t the best time for him if he is being honest, but it definitely isn’t the worst either. 

It isn’t until he gets a text from Jongho saying that he is coming up with a gift that he remembers what conspired all those weeks ago. Well, it’s Yeosang who actually remembers first. 

“You didn’t think…” Hongjoong trails off as Yeosang looks up from his phone.

“It’s definitely the crab.” Yeosang says with a straight face. 

Hongjoong sits down at their kitchen counter and puts his head in his hands. He stays there until he hears the rapping of knuckles on his apartment door. Praying to a God he doesn’t believe in, Hongjoong hopes that he has been fooled by his jaded roommate. 

“Surprise!” Jongho shouts in the hallway, tank in hand and San by his side carrying the tiniest of plastic containers. 

“Told you.” Yeosang comments uselessly from the couch and Hongjoong flips him off from the doorway. 

Sighing, he gets out of the way so his idiot friends can walk in before Migung decides to book it out the door. Last thing he wants is Yeosang to have a reason to take his head off, he doesn’t have enough time to get killed before his Finance exam. 

Jongho and San crowd around the kitchen counter, they bounce on their toes as Hongjoong drags his feet on the wooden floor. He comes to their shoulders with a tired expression as his eyes reach to what they are looking at. 

Even Yeosang gets up to see all of the commotion. 

So there they are: 4 boys, 1 cat, and 1 itty-bitty crab. 

Hongjoong stares at it, he can’t see much if he is being honest. The little thing is mostly hiding underneath a wet paper towel; all that is visible is one of its claws which holds true to the species name. 

San starts going on about how to take care of the crab as Jongho fills the tank with some more water. A pineapple sits in the corner of the tank, somewhere for the crab to hide when it wants to. Next to it, a thing of neon mushrooms. 

_Definitely Wooyoung’s idea to get those._

“For the love of God, do not forget to fill the tank with brackish water. The pet store people said that they can live in freshwater, but they are lying through their fucking teeth. Luckily for you, we already salted the water enough so you should be good for the time being.”

Hongjoong nods along, he feels like he is the one being thrown into the deep end. Jongho shows him how much land the crab needs so he can get enough air to breath. How they like to hide so he needs to make sure the pineapple on the inside doesn’t get too full of gravel.

And how they don’t eat much in the winter so he is in luck with only having to feed his crab every other day. 

Hongjoong’s crab, his. 

_My mom is going to kill me,_ he all but moans to himself. _She is going to fucking destroy me when I show up at the house for winter break, 6 fucking weeks, with a crab._

“So what’s his name?” Jongho asks with too much excitement on a Thursday night.

The first thing that comes to his mind is just naming it ‘Crab’ because he doesn’t give a shit about it anyway. But his mind wanders and what comes to mind next is just stupid enough for it to work. 

“JFK.” Hongjoong says. The second the name is out of his mouth, Yeosang sighs and walks out of the kitchen and into his bedroom without saying a word. 

“JFK?” San repeats back. 

“Yeah,” _How do I tell them about how Mingi and I binge-watched all of_ Clone High _last weekend instead of working on my Python project without sounding like a complete idiot?_ “Just a character from a show.”

Jongho nods and gives him a thumbs-up before picking up the tank to take to Hongjoong’s bedroom. The youngest murmurs: _JFK, JFK,_ under his breath to an unknown tune. 

Hongjoong looks around to try and find a place to put the tank. He notices that his collection of albums on top of one bookcase isn’t completely overflowing (yet). He moves a couple to the side and points to the area with lackluster care. 

The youngest places the tank down carefully and San comes over with the crab; he hands (read: shoves) it over to Hongjoong with a grin.

“You should place him in hyung.”

Hongjoong shuffles his feet, he really doesn’t want to. What if it is slimy? What if it tries to crawl up his arm? He makes a noise in disagreement, but before he can force one of them to do it, they are already out of his room and heading towards the front door.

“You got this!” Jongho yells before slamming the front door closed, leaving Hongjoong alone with his crab. 

“This is so stupid.” Hongjoong mutters to himself as he wrestles with the top of the plastic container. 

It almost takes the breath out of him as he tries to take the damn thing off. After a couple tries of embarrassing lack of strength, he finally gets the top off without throwing the crab over his shoulder. 

He stares inside of it for a second, waiting for the crab to jump out at him, but it does nothing. 

_Are you dead?_

Hongjoong puts his pointer finger in the cup and pushes the paper towel to the side. The crab skitters quickly to follow it and Hongjoong almost screams as it brushes along his finger. 

_Not dead, okay. Awesome, just great._

He puts the container on its side inside of the tank. Hongjoong watches carefully as the crab slowly but surely crawls its way into its new home. It walks sideways instead of forward which Hongjoong finds funny. 

And just like that, Hongjoong is officially a crab owner. He pulls the container out of the tank and throws the damp paper towel away in the trash. He picks up the fish food and reads up on how much he is supposed to give it. 

As much as he would _love_ to stare at the crab as it hides itself away for 20 hours on end, Hongjoong has work to get back to. So he goes to the fridge, grabs a can of RedBull, and makes his way back to his desk like nothing had even happened over the last hour. 

If he looks over his shoulder after every question he solves, just to catch a peek of the crab that stands at the front of his tank… then well, Hongjoong just guesses that it is a fan of SHINee (look, SHINee makes perfectly good music to study to, okay?) 

Maybe they could get along after all, but he doesn’t get his hopes up. Especially when it goes into its pineapple hiddy-hole when _Replay_ starts playing. 

_Who the fuck doesn’t like this song?_ Hongjoong scuffs and continues with his studying as if he just didn’t have the stupidest thought of the year right then.

  


  


Pulling Yunho into his room is as easy as it always is. 

The taller man trips over the black Doc Martin’s laying in the middle of Hongjoong’s floor. They stumble together, but Hongjoong is resisting his laughs for moans instead. 

He was planning on cleaning before Yunho came over, but he tossed that thought out the second he finished his last assignment of the week. Folding his clothes and cleaning the bathroom could happen after Yunho railed him into the next dimension. 

If he has to think about _Operations Management_ for one more second, he might as well just die. And no, he isn’t being dramatic. 

“Woah, slow down dude.” Yunho laughs as he places Hongjoong on his own bed, the older refusing to unlock his legs from Yunho’s midsection. 

Hongjoong scrunches his nose in utter disgust, _you are about to put your dick in me— wait no no, I am about to let you put your dick in me, and you call me dude?_

Yunho kisses the tip of his nose and laughs under his breath when Hongjoong wraps his arms around his neck. Being almost chest to chest with this height difference (him being on the bed and Yunho still standing with his boots on) is uncomfortable, but Hongjoong couldn’t really give two shits at the moment. 

All he wants is a dick in his mouth, is that too much to ask for? Some people take baths or watch their favorite tv shows after a hard week. 

Hongjoong would much rather get his guts rearranged by a friend (yeah… let’s just go with friend) as a form of therapy. 

“God you are crude when you’re horny.” Yunho mumbles against Hongjoong’s neck after he says all of that unconsciously out loud. 

It ends up not being as embarrassing as it could have been because it manages to kick Yunho’s ass in gear. He starts to mouth at the underside of Hongjoong’s neck, leaving a trail of kisses that feel more like the ‘kisses’ a dog gives you; slobbery. 

It would be gross as hell if Hongjoong wasn’t as horny as he is, for this he is sort of thankful for his lack of brain cells. 

“If your hand isn’t in my pants within the next 5 seconds, I will kill everyone in this room,” Hongjoong grabs the collar of Yunho’s shirt to whisper these words against his lips. “You, me, and the crab if I have to.” 

He gives the taller man fluttery lashes and a coy look that he rarely shows due to the nature of how _Not Him_ it is. Measures have to be taken in this state. 

If it shows Yunho how desperate he actually is, then he will never know because of course, _of fucking course,_ Yunho had to get distracted by the obvious. 

“You have a _what_ now? A crab!” 

Yunho turns his head just enough in the direction Hongjoong absolutely doesn’t want him to look at. He tries to paw at the taller man’s chin to get the attention back on to him, but fails when Yunho pulls his tiny hands off his face. 

“No, no, no, _no!_ ” He whines like a child losing their favorite toy. Yunho places Hongjoong’s hands in his lap before walking (waddling because he has a fucking hard-on) over to the tank, gasping at it as JFK scurries into its pineapple. 

“Wow, he’s fucking sick, where did you get him?”

Hongjoong throws himself on his back, letting the blankets and pillows scatter as he flails in defeat. He picks one of his spare pillows and screams into it as Yunho keeps cooing over the crustacean like it’s a Goddamn puppy or something. 

_I got cockblocked by my own crab, are you kidding me?_

“Wherever he came from, he is going back if you don’t pay attention to me right now!” Hongjoong yells (way too pathetically if you asked him) into the pillow. 

“Hey now,” Yunho finally pulls himself away from the tank after waving goodbye as if the crab knows the human standard of common courtesy. “You know you are still my favorite, even though…” “ _JFK._ ” “…even though JFK has some hot claws.”

With a gasp of horror, Hongjoong throws the pillow off of his head and sits up. He hits Yunho up and down with said pillow and evades getting tackled in retaliation. 

“Do. Not. Sexualize. My. Fucking. Crab!” 

He manages to crawl on top of Yunho and with a grin that can only be described as evil, Hongjoong disarms himself so he can hold the taller man’s hands above his head with a demanding grip. 

Yunho laughs at the smaller man’s efforts until Hongjoong grinds down on his dick, his laugh turns into a low groan and it is exactly the sound Hongjoong wanted to hear like 10 minutes ago. 

Better late than never…? 

“If you wanna sexualize something,” Hongjoong licks at the shell of the taller man’s ear. “I’m right here.”

(“You… were jealous… of your crab?” Yeosang says over a bowl of cereal. 

Hongjoong doesn’t limp, but he does try to put the smallest amount of pressure on his feet as he walks. And sure when Yeosang says it like that, it does sound like he was jealous. But he wasn’t!

“I was not jealous.” He scoffs as he opens a White Claw even though it is definitely 10AM on a Wednesday. College life has officially ruined his liver. 

“Dude you told him to fuck you so he wouldn’t fuck around with the crab and leave you cry like a newborn, what is wrong with you?” Yeosang blinks at him like he has lost his mind. 

But then he blinks again, it looks like something has washed over him that he hadn’t considered before. Hongjoong watches the transformation with a dull eye, already scared of what his roommate is going to say next. 

“You haven’t told him, have you?”

Hongjoong avoids eye contact by searching for Migung, he hasn’t seen that stinker all day and he wants cuddles. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Bullshit, but whatever.” Yeosang says, and Hongjoong just knows the dirty bastard is rolling his eyes too. 

Hongjoong thinks Yeosang is just jealous that Migung has been spending more time in his bedroom than her owner’s, that has to be it, right? There is nothing to tell— fuck, okay whatever. 

So when Yeosang leaves to go back to his room for his Zoom recitation Hongjoong stands in the kitchen a little longer pretending his roommate (childhood best friend, literal ride or die—) isn’t right for once. But he is, he always is. 

_No, I haven’t told him. Thanks for the reminder, as if I really needed one_ ).

  


  


Struggling to open the door while holding JFK’s tank, Hongjoong does manage to get into his house with only a couple bruises on his forearms. 

The drive back home took the literal life out of him. And like always, it was his fault that he left late enough to get stuck in rush hour traffic, but hey, he made it back alive so he calls it a win. The amount of accidents he sees every time he drives on the freeway is way too many for him to count on his own 2 hands. 

He lets out a heavy breath and it fogs up his glasses. The air outside still has some warmth to it, but as winter fast approaches, Hongjoong expects it to be cold as shit by Christmas. 

Shaking his head, he continues to wander through the laundry room to get to the kitchen in hopes of setting JFK down as soon as humanly possible. His noodle arms can only take so much. Who knew a tank with only a cup of water and some gravel in it would be heavier than Yeosang’s cat. 

Before he can get close enough to the counter however, he hears someone first. Footsteps fall fast and he wonders if someone is actually _running_ towards him for some reason. 

“Oh my baby is home!” His mom yells the second Hongjoong is in her sights. Her arms are open wide, ready to embrace him. She blindly goes to hug him, not noticing the large tank in her son’s arms. 

Which, you know, is fair since she doesn’t know— 

“Wait!” Hongjoong squeaks out suddenly, pushing out of his mother’s way and manages to get the tank on the kitchen counter before his ear is pulled out of disrespect towards her. 

But it seems as if his mom is frozen in her place. She doesn’t move a muscle as she peers at the tank with squinted eyes. It looks as if she goes through the 5 Stages of Grief within a blink of an eye, Hongjoong watches as her face contorts and ends with her jaw basically on the floor. 

_Maybe I should’ve called her after talking to dad about the crab… too late now._

“Kim Hongjoong, I swear to God if you brought a fucking _spider_ into my house—” 

Even though Hongjoong is standing smack dab in the middle of the kitchen, he can hear his father laughing from the other side of the house. It echoes through the open space and it reminds Hongjoong that he won't be completely destroyed for bringing home the surprise of the century. At least, not fully. 

“It isn’t a spider,” He sputters out, pointing at the tank with wide-eyes. “It’s a crab!” _As if a crab is any better, you fucking idiot._

“Ah yes, JFK, right? I can’t believe I forgot about him already.” His father’s voice sounds as if he is reminiscing, like he wasn’t told about the creature last week over a discreet phone call. 

And if his mom didn’t look red in the face before, well she definitely looks like she could be a tomato now. 

“You knew?” She yells and his father continues to laugh it up. Hongjoong can hear the old man’s footsteps falling on the tile and it isn’t long when he finally comes into view. He immediately wraps his mom up in a bear hug before she can try to hit his chest in retaliation. 

Somewhere deep inside, it hurts Hongjoong’s heart more than it should. 

“It’s just a crab honey, not like it is going to escape or anything,” His father says while looking Hongjoong directly in the eye, signaling his son to not say the wrong thing if he wants to see tomorrow. “ _Right?_ ”

Hongjoong aggressively shakes his head in agreeance. His mind wanders off, thinking about how JFK tried to escape via climbing on top of his mushroom and reaching to grab onto the top of the tank in an attempt to be a ‘free boy’ as Jongho said it. 

Let’s just say he moved the mushroom away from the side of the tank the second JFK gave up a couple hours later. 

“Yeah no way to escape here! He— it is perfectly safe in there.” He laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck as he lies through his teeth. He just pretends that his parents believe him to make the whole situation less painful. 

His mom gives him a look, the one where it makes him feel like he could be homeless in less than a second if she sees the crab anywhere but in the tank. He gulps knowing she wouldn’t even feel bad about it. 

“Well okay… I’m just glad you’re back safe, you know how much I hate it when you drive back so late.” She sighs as she gets out of his father’s embrace. 

She walks towards him with less open arms, but open arms nevertheless, “welcome home.”

And Hongjoong didn’t realize how much he missed his mom’s hugs. He never got them often even when he was living back home, but now whenever he’s back from school, he gets drowned in them. 

It makes him wonder if his parents ever feel bad for not giving him the physical attention he needed when he was younger. He tries to erase the thought every time it pops it's dirty little head up, and yet it still comes to mind whenever he looks his mom in the eye. 

The hugs are comforting and way more useful than they were in high school at least. Maybe that’s the old in him speaking, Wooyoung would agree wholeheartedly. 

Hongjoong gives his father a hug and keeps it brief. He can’t stand the way his father hits his back with a force too strong for him to handle, but he smiles through the pain anyway knowing he doesn’t mean to be so harsh. 

Being back home for the holidays is a lot better than being alone. If Hongjoong can remember that for the next 6 weeks, he should be able to get through them easily.

_What’s the worst thing that can happen?_

“Now that you are here, do you want to see a surprise I have for you?” His mom smiles wide causing Hongjoong’s own to drop into a frown before she even finishes her sentence. 

She grabs him by the hand and leads him to his childhood bedroom. When he enters it, he wants to leave the second his feet hit the carpeted floor.

Hongjoong has never liked surprises, feeling like they always unearth him enough for him to feel unbalanced days after he is met with one. This surprise is no different, let alone worse than what he used to.

Most times it’s just clothes he absolutely hates. Or for instance, his mom cleaning his room when he very specifically told her not to. 

This time though… he would’ve taken either of those over this. 

Because by the looks of it, his bedroom is not _his_ bedroom anymore. 

“I redecorated!” His mom claps out of happiness. 

The bed that used to be in the guest bedroom is now in his room. It is a full size, nothing like the queen Hongjoong has been sleeping on for the last decade. The furniture is sleek and black rather than the blucky light brown wood that encapsulated his childhood. 

His bed is in a completely different area of the room, the head board is by the Goddamn window as if they don’t live on the corner of a busy road, and his tv doesn’t even sit straight on for him to watch it. 

It’s… not the end of the world, all rooms need redecorating at some point. Especially the room of a 12 year old that hasn’t lived at the house for 3 years now. 

But it still makes him feel awful, in a way that isn’t really fair to his parents or to himself because he knows that they were just trying to do something nice. It never feels nice enough though. 

“Do you like it?” His mom asks. He turns to her and swallows his words like he always does. 

In the corner his father stands with his arms crossed over his chest with an expression on his face that just screams: _I told her not to_. 

Hongjoong grabs his mom’s hands and kisses them gently. 

“Of course I do.” He whispers as he tries to remind himself that this, _this_ is the worst thing that could happen.

  


  


“I need to go to the pet store to get JFK some more gravel, do you wanna come with me?”

Hongjoong leans against the doorway to his father’s office. His old man is dressed in a button-up shirt, but only has cargo shorts on. The wonders of working at home he guesses. Hongjoong knows he would hate it but he is glad his dad is almost the exact opposite of himself. 

Also his father being home lessens the probability of him dying of a heart attack due to the unimaginable anxiety he faces every time a car gets closer than 10 feet from him. Which is unfortunate when his work is 45 minutes away. 

The man turns away from his monitors that litter his desk, he smiles at his son with something warm and true. 

“Sure, I’ll come with you. Let me just finish this real fast.” 

Hongjoong nods shortly and moves away from the door. He turns on his heels and walks out into the living room where his mom sits on her side of the couch. She is still dressed in her tennis gear, but it looks as if she played in Antarctica rather than the coastline they live on. 

He raises an eyebrow and when she asks what gives, he just mumbles out: _nothing, nothing,_ under his breath and moves on. 

By the time Hongjoong gets his shoes on, his father is racing out of his office like it caught fire. He laughs to himself as he sees his father rip off his nice shirt to go for a looser collared one. 

Still, he also dresses like he is going to face the coldest temperatures on Earth. Hongjoong looks down and wiggles his toes that are just clad in socks and sandals (he knows alright: _it’s not a good look,_ what-fucking-ever). 

The warmest thing he is wearing right now is a beanie and that won’t do much to fight off the cold along with his thin sweatpants and the t-shirt he picked up at Goodwill last summer. 

“You ready to go?” Hongjoong asks, spinning his keys around his finger. 

If his dad looks at his outfit and thinks his son is a step right off of insane, he doesn’t say anything, “yeah let’s head out.”

They both yell bye to Hongjoong’s mom and exit the house through the garage. Hongjoong doesn’t even try to argue with his dad, but just gets into the new car. 

Hongjoong despises driving it, it’s too big, and yet too light and just an uncomfortable car to be in overall. But no way in hell can he say that out loud when his father adores the car more than both his mom and him combined. 

His father begs him to take it out, even if he is just going down the street to see friends, but Hongjoong does out of fear of scratch it like he did his mom’s car. She didn’t talk to him for a couple of days and he really doesn’t want to repeat that. 

But with his father in the car with him… might as well take it out for a spin, especially now that it doesn’t go anywhere but the grocery store. 

Hongjoong puts the car in ‘drive’ and backs out of the garage with no hiccups (which is better than the time he took out a whole decorative light post only a handful of months earlier). His father does hold on to the hand grip causing Hongjoong to roll his eyes. 

_How you ever managed to drive to and from work is beyond me._

“So… how’s work going?” Hongjoong breaks the silence as they drive out of the neighborhood. 

His father hates listening to the music that Hongjoong loves, it doesn’t bother him too much because even he can admit that his music taste can be a little out there. But God does the silence in the car kill him from time to time. 

“It’s going… as good as you can imagine. They are still drilling my ass and I have about had it, but you know me,” His father smiles even though his words are dipped in spite. “I can handle it.” 

Hongjoong nods along, it isn’t the first time work has been a pain in the ass for his father and it won’t be the last. But as the old man ages, the worst it seems to affect the family. 

He can still remember how much they fought when Hongjoong was a freshman in high school. It was always about grades, always about college and how if he didn’t pick it up, he would be left behind. 

He was 14, mind you. What 14 year old is thinking (more like caring) about the future?

“Of course you do, old man.” Hongjoong snorts as he brakes, they watch the elementary school children cross the crosswalk to go home. It reminds Hongjoong of meeting Yeosang for the first time: bruised and bloody knees along with a tiny helping hand. 

“I did hire a new grad though. She is very sweet and smart, only has a Bachelor's degree too.” His father turns to look at him with all too telling eyes. 

“I don’t want to be hired at where you work, it’s boring as hell.” He responds with the same response he has been giving him since he entered college. 

“What else can you possibly do with a Business degree? Sit on it until it festers?” 

_I mean, that sounds better than sitting in an office until my brain rots out of my ears._

Hongjoong just smiles, not wanting to argue about something that doesn’t even matter for the time being. He still has some time to figure out if he wants to go to grad school (which he probably will just to avoid a career, tell no one). 

He is still young, he has time. 

The roads are quite clear. After only being out for a couple weeks, Hongjoong enjoys his break while most people are working and the younger kids are still at school. The roads are always clear this time of year, and it is nice to be able to just drive around with no care in the world. 

Only God knows how awful it is going to get the days leading up to Christmas. 

At the light right before the turn off for the plaza the pet store is in, Hongjoong turns to look out of his side window. His eyes land on a girl and what seems to be her mother. The mother has her head resting on the steering wheel and Hongjoong practically feels the tension leak out of the car. 

He doesn’t mean to jump when the girl looks away from her mother and out the passenger side window. They lock eyes and Hongjoong can see the red rims outlining her eyes from here. 

Hongjoong whips his head around when the car behind him honks for not going at the green light. When he peers back, he sees that the car to his side is already gone. 

_I wonder what they were fighting about._

He pulls into the parking lot and doesn’t speed over the speed bumps like he usually would. 

“Okay so I want to get it sand, but I think I’ll do that when I get back—”

“Don’t you think you should call it at least ‘he’, if you know, you are gonna be spending even more of _my_ money on him?” His father cuts him off and Hongjoong just sighs. 

“If I call it ‘he’, suddenly I care too much about a fucking crab.” Hongjoong sighs, again but louder this time, and gives his father a: _give me a break,_ look. 

“What’s so wrong about caring about him?” 

Hongjoong’s lips go straight and he just shakes his head. There isn’t anything wrong necessarily about caring about the crab, it… he is his pet. You should care about your pets, even if they are ones forced upon you by your dumbass friends. 

“Let’s get _him_ gravel, that good enough for you?”

“As long as you pay for lunch after words, hell yeah.” His father smirks as he gets out of the car. 

Hongjoong continues to grin to himself as he gets out with a jump onto the pavement, well knowing his wallet is comfortably placed in his backpack all the way back home.

  


  


_If I bang my head in hard enough, maybe I won’t have to listen to this nonsense any longer._

Hongjoong lays in bed with a pillow over his head, trying to get the music echoing throughout the house out of his Goddamn head. 

He can hear laughter mixed in with all the noise. His bedroom light is on compared to his lamp because his parents have been too busy to buy him a new lightbulb. But he well knows their money is going to more important things. 

Important things like way too expensive tequila and bottles of vodka that stand taller than himself. 

And it is only a matter of time when his mom will slam into his room, demanding him to spend time with them. He wishes his older brother was here at least to direct some attention off of him. 

But he knows his brother only visits on Christmas morning, way before the whole event of drinks being poured can affect their parents’ inhibitions. 

Christmas was fine this year too, a holiday built upon misleading presents and no expectations at all, Hongjoong has learned to appreciate his family for what they are: a mess, and an unholy one at that. 

But the weekends have been grinding on his gears since he arrived, and he has kept his mouth shut about it like he does every time. 

And as much as he loves crashing at Yeosang’s house on Saturdays to drink with someone who won’t drive him mad and Mingi’s on Sundays to play stupid video games, he can only do it for so long before someone starts asking questions.

Not like he is embarrassed or anything, everyone drinks too much sometimes. His parents ‘sometimes’ are just… all the time. 

Holy shit though, if he has to hear his mom yell at his father for opening another drink when he already has 3 lying around half full, he may just have to take a drive. And not come back until sunrise, which is normal right? 

His tv’s speakers play no fair match against the 70s Korean music that blasts outside his closed door. Hongjoong sits up to turn off the dumb cartoon show, letting his pillow pathetically fall to the floor. He lays back down and turns on to his side. 

JFK’s tank, for a lack of better words, looks like it could grow legs and walk away. Since being home, Hongjoong hasn’t cleaned it mostly because the water evaporates fast enough for him to refill it whenever he sees fit. 

But now it looks like death warmed over and Hongjoong thinks he has just found his best excuse to not drink at his mom’s demands since his whole red meat phase where he would be too sick to get a shot down because of his stomach rolling over the raw meat in his body. 

He pulls himself off of his bed with deadweight arms. After a long day of ‘day drinking’ and napping for hours on end, Hongjoong is more beat than he would like to admit. He is a sleepy drunk (like his father which is not a good mix) so drinking sort of ruins a whole day for him if he decides to get started. 

If he ever wants to sleep tonight, he knows to stay away from the thing that keeps him up the most. 

Hongjoong gets on his knees and looks at the tank with his elbows pressed against the dresser it sits on. JFK is out in the open, chilling next to his pineapple and staring off into space as crabs do. 

“Okay JFK let’s not make this any more painful than it needs to be. You’ll like a clean tank, I promise.” 

JFK looks back at him, eyes empty and claws hidden. 

“Why am I talking to my crab?” Hongjoong mumbles to himself as he moves out of the way. 

He pulls on the top dresser drawer and gets out JFK’s travel cup that he came in from the pet store. Hongjoong can easily tell you his least favorite thing to do is trying to get this bitch of a crab out of his tank. 

And tonight is no different, armed with a pencil and cap from his dry shampoo, Hongjoong tries to manoeuvre JFK into it so he can drop his tiny butt into his travel cup. 

“Come on man, you like the travel cup! You get a wet paper towel and everything!” Hongjoong bargains as JFK escapes once again from the corner Hongjoong backed him into. 

JFK manages to dodge him a couple more times until Hongjoong gets the pencil up in his business, only then does JFK scatter into the dry shampoo lid (and if Hongjoong lets out a sound of victory, you won’t ever know). 

(…he did). 

“Just me, you, and your tank, little dude.” Hongjoong sings as he walks JFK into the bathroom. 

Once the little guy is sitting down, he goes back into his bedroom and fetches the tank. The thing is even heavier now with all the water in it. Once it starts to slosh around, the smell of the icky water hits Hongjoong harder than he first imagined.

He gags at the smell then glares at JFK, wondering how a creature so small could stink up his home as much as he has. It reminds Hongjoong of something his mom said, how dogs won’t shit where they sleep. 

Crabs are a lot different from dogs though. 

Tangent aside, Hongjoong plucks out each of JFK’s hiding spots. He cleans out the pineapple and mushrooms first and sets them on a towel to dry a bit. He thinks of how the small plant he got alongside the gravel he bought a couple weeks ago will be the perfect addition. 

The water smells like pure ass and he gags more times than he wants to admit. 

_Next time San is going to be the one cleaning this fucking tank out,_ Hongjoong thinks to himself as he manages to not dump half the gravel down the tiny sink drain. 

Hongjoong puts more water in it to swish around and dump out once more. He shakes the gravel free with his hand and pours the water out again and again. 

He continues to do this until the water is mostly clear, once he gets there he puts in more water that is closer to room temperature and starts to build up a little hill for JFK to stand and breath on. 

All the while, the world seems to slip away. Hongjoong didn’t think cleaning JFK’s tank would bring over some sense of calm. But here he stands, fixing the tank with a fresh pineapple, mushroom, and plant. 

Hongjoong hums to himself as he cleans off the sides of the tank, wiping away the extra water droplets so it doesn’t leave a nasty stain. He checks the water to see if it is the right temperature to put JFK back in and deems it safe. 

It is a lot easier to get the little guy back into the tank than out. Hongjoong watches as JFK hides between the plant and the side of the pineapple. 

“I’m glad you like the new addition.” Hongjoong says quietly as he drops some fish flakes into the tank. 

And as he falls asleep that night, JFK munches away at his fish flakes. Lucky for Hongjoong to be as relaxed as he is because if he wasn’t, he would have definitely heard the hushed argument coming from the living room. 

But that’s a problem for tomorrow. Definitely.

  


  


**From: yunho-ah~~~**  
21:02: Do you want to go out tomorrow?  
21:03: Like grab dinner and see a movie? Or something

 **To: yunho-ah~~~**  
21:05: sure! that sounds like fun!  
21:05: a little out of left field, but welcomed all the same haha.

 **From: yunho-ah~~~**  
21:06: Idk man, what can I say. Maybe I miss you /:  
21:06: Only a little though, can’t have you get too big of a head  
21:07: (;

  


  


“Be safe and for the love of God, _use protection!_ ” Hongjoong’s mom yells out the window overlooking their neighborhood. 

Hongjoong cringes at the statement and waves her off as he walks towards Yunho’s car that is parked ever so prettily in their driveway. 

She waves back with her glass of wine in hand before taking a large gulp of it. Hongjoong would say bye to his father too, but he is currently taking a shower after playing a (boring) round of golf. 

_Loser,_ Hongjoong snorts loudly. He stifles it however when he notices Yunho’s door open. The younger man gets out of the car and walks over to the passenger’s side. He opens it with a leading arm, inviting Hongjoong to get in. 

“God I hope I’m not too undressed,” Hongjoong laughs nervously. “You look great, really.”

Yunho only laughs as he closes the door. Hongjoong watches as Yunho walks in front of his vehicle; he is dressed in a black button down that is rolled up to his elbows. His pants fit like he was born in them, making his ass— 

“Nah you look perfect.” Yunho smiles as his eyes trail up and down Hongjoong’s body. 

The older laughs before coughing into his fist. He isn’t so sure that his hawaiian button-up and ripped jeans are exactly what he would count as ‘perfect’, but it’s still nice to hear. 

Yunho waves out his window at Hongjoong’s mother as he backs out of the driveway. He places a hand behind Hongjoong’s head rest as he turns to look behind him and it causes a weird amount of butterflies to flutter in his chest. 

The drive out of the neighborhood is peaceful. Hongjoong isn’t really sure where he should put his hands, they don’t feel right crossed in front of his chest or on his lap. But as his palms keep sweating, Hongjoong is forced to wipe his hands on his jeans every couple minutes. 

“You look nervous.” 

Hongjoong blinks as he looks at Yunho who looks like the opposite of nervous. One hand on the wheel and back snug against his seat. 

“O-oh, you know. Not like it’s my first… date or something.” _Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking._

The car jolts as Yunho hits the breaks a little too hard, “wait, really? No one… no one’s taken you out before? Ever?” And when he says it, it doesn’t sound like: _oh you only fucked and left,_ which he has heard more times than necessary.

It sounds more like: _how have you managed to get this far without some on their knees for you._

Sliding down as much as he can, Hongjoong covers his face as he turns positively red. It’s not like he is embarrassed to the 5th degree or anything, but you know… he’s a little embarrassed. He’s almost out of college for fuck’s sake. 

_Going on a date is different from being asked to go on one,_ Hongjoong tells himself as he remembers the dozen white roses Christopher Bang gave him the week leading up to Prom. 

“Wow, okay now I’m nervous.” 

“No, no, no, no! Don’t be, it’s fine. This is fine, we are gonna have a great time.” Hongjoong takes his hands from his face to wave them about as if to rip the tension out of the air. 

Yunho looks over at him when they are stopped at a light. Hongjoong watches the younger grab his pinkie finger by his own and squeezes. His heart does somersaults as it blooms. 

And just as Yunho is about to let go, Hongjoong remembers to squeeze back. They stay like that until they reach the movie theater.

  


…

  


“I’m paying next time!” Hongjoong pushes his shoulder into Yunho’s chest as they walk out of the restaurant. 

“Not on my watch.” Yunho teases back as he pulls Hongjoong in to kiss him lightly on the cheek. 

Seeing a movie with Yunho and going out to dinner after was easy, it felt easy. Maybe it’s because they have watched movies and gotten food together multiple times before. This time it felt different, but not in a way that gets Hongjoong lacing up his running shoes. 

Throwing popcorn into each other’s mouths, laughing into one another when something stupidly funny happened during the movie, and holding hands across the table as they ate their dessert was… natural. 

Hongjoong couldn’t imagine really liking someone as much as he does Yunho. 

“Why did you ask me out?” He asks as Yunho drives him back home. The moon shines brightly through the trees, casting a silvery glow upon the night. 

“I mean, I like what we do at yours of course,” Yunho smirks and Hongjoong can’t help but roll his eyes. “But I really did mean it when I said I missed you… and like, I always have loved hanging out with you, but this time I just sort of craved it, you know?” 

The younger’s voice gets quieter as he says this and Hongjoong wants to tackle him into a hug and kiss the living shit out of him, but because he is driving, he holds himself back. They can do that once they are safely parked in his driveway. 

“I really like,” _you, you, you, just say it._ “Hanging out… with you.” Hongjoong whispers in the dark. 

He wants to say it, he wants to scream it: _I like you, holy fuck I like you more than I should._ Because ever since Mingi introduced the two of them, Hongjoong feels like the Universe has been yelling at them to get their shit together. To be together, for real. Not this bullshit where it’s in and out between hard exams and idle time. 

It would feel so much safer to say it here where he can’t see Yunho’s reaction. The words wouldn’t have the same impact as they would in the daylight. If he fell here with no one to catch him, it wouldn’t hurt as much. 

And yet— 

“I really like hanging out with you too.” 

It all feels like a dream. All the days and nights cursing out his name to Yeosang, who watched him almost make himself sick over the younger. How his emotions roll so much stronger over his body than what he can handle. 

All of the fear, fear, _fear_ that he has tangled up in his body like a ball and chain because he… he— 

“Hongjoong, I think something is wrong.”

The older looks up from his lap and he wipes his face clear of tears that never fell. What he sees is an unusual sight. 

All the lights are on in his house which makes no sense because his parents are usually in bed by now. Hongjoong tilts his head as they park in the driveway, but he goes grossly still when he hears a crash. 

“You awful piece of fucking shit, _I hate you!_ ”

 _Oh God, Mom._

Suddenly Hongjoong is out of the car and racing towards the front door before Yunho can even properly park. He slips as his feet get ahead of him, but he manages to rip open the door before falling on to his face. 

“You do nothing for this family and just take everything I do for granted you ungrateful bitch!”

 _Shit, shit, shit, not this again. Not today, not now._

“Hongjoong, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go in there—” “Stay outside!” Hongjoong shouts back at Yunho who stands at the edge of the door, not exactly inside but clearly afraid of what will happen if Hongjoong goes in alone. 

He whips his head around when he hears another crash, the sound of glass breaking as his mom screams out suddenly. 

“Mom!” Hongjoong yells as he races towards the kitchen. 

He sees his mom curled up against the kitchen counter and his father nowhere to be seen. Bits of a broken tablet are spread across the tile and Hongjoong gingerly moves out of the way of the glass. 

It only takes a moment for him to figure out where his father is when he hears the bedroom door slam shut just a few feet away. 

“Hey mom, hey it’s me. I’m here, just breathe with me. In, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. Good job, one more time. One more time then you can tell me what… what happened.” Hongjoong places a hand on her back and leads her through breathing exercises he does whenever he gets a little _too_ nervous for presentations. 

“Get. Me. Out. Of. Here.” His mom says through huffs, alcohol heavy on her breath that Hongjoong has to stop himself from gagging at the rancid smell. 

“Okay, okay. We— _I’ll_ get you out of here.”

She can barely stand and her touch is as cold as ice. Hongjoong manages to wrap a spare blanket from the couch around her and puts some slippers on as he leads her out of the house. 

Panic runs through his veins and he doesn’t know what to do about his father who has locked himself in their bedroom. He’ll deal with him later, maybe. 

Yunho watches as Hongjoong and his mom walk past him. His eyes are wide and looks like a deer lost in the headlights. Hongjoong’s shoulder brushes across his chest and subconsciously flinches away at the touch. 

He gets his mom in the car, leading her head in so she doesn’t hit it. Once the door is closed, Hongjoong turns ever so slightly to look at Yunho. 

“I… I gotta go.”

Hongjoong’s ears ring, he can’t even hear Yunho talking to him, begging him not to drive. But at that point, Hongjoong is already pulling out of the driveway in his own car, his mom rocking in the passenger seat next to him. 

And he leaves Yunho standing in the middle of his driveway, only looking out of the back window when they turn the corner. 

(“Never get married Joongie, it never works out. Not even the second fucking one.” His mom mumbles in the car as they drive past the mountains; her words are slurred and sound like they were rehearsed many times before.

Hongjoong doesn’t know where he is going and doesn’t know how long they have been out here. They really need to fix the dashboard clock. 

“Don’t say that, you’re drunk.” Hongjoong stiffly responds. His knuckles get whiter and whiter as his grip on the steering wheel gets strong as they drive. 

“You don’t know what it’s like, going from one abusive relationship to the next. It’s _cage,_ it’s a _scam!_ ” She yells back like a priest would to ward off a demon, talking about love like it is a twisted game she never learned how to play right. 

Hongjoong almost kicks her out of the car right then and there. 

_Dad is different, you know he is._

And all of the fear, fear, _fear_ that he has tangled up in his body because of this. The stupid fucking alcohol, the stupid fucking job, his stupid fucking parents. 

He should thank his parents if he is being honest, it was like he forgot the fear was even there. Bitterness taints Hongjoong’s tongue that once tasted like cream soda and Yunho. What a waste of a date, what a waste of a night. 

It’s always about them, them, _them._ Not about Hongjoong and his stupid degree and his stupid dreams and his stupid childhood bedroom. 

_What a waste of a life,_ Hongjoong numbly thinks as they park in the lot of a grocery store. His mom crying next to him and Hongjoong staring off into space that he doesn’t even notice the girl looking right at him from her own car. 

_Yunho’s different though, he has to be_ ).

  


  


“I’m going back to school.” Hongjoong says quietly. 

His father sits in silence next to him. The park is quiet this time of day, the cold wind must be the reason why as all the kids and dog walkers are nowhere to be seen; Hongjoong shivers to the bone. It’s much colder than it was when Hongjoong first came home. 

It will be even colder back at school, but quite literally temperatures under freezing couldn’t be worse than the metaphorical sub-zero environment his house has become. 

_Couldn’t get any worse my fucking ass._

“It’s… so early for you to go back though.” His father whispers. He plays with his fingers, too afraid to touch anything other than the air and the skin underneath his nails. They are bloody and raw from how much he has been picking at them lately. 

“I know, and I know you know… why I have to get out of here.” Hongjoong responds, not bothering to tell him that Yunho is going back too and that he won’t be alone. The last thing his father ever wants for him is to be alone. 

His mom craves for him to have it. Maybe that’s why he had a dorm all to himself freshman year. 

Clouds race past them in the sky. The weather calls for rain and it looks like it, Hongjoong wonders if he will hit snow on the way back. 

_The freeway is going to fucking suck tonight._

“You know I love you, right?” 

The look on his father’s face is pained. The circles under his eyes are dark and bruising. Hongjoong wonders how much he has been getting in, knowing that it is something close to 0. He can hear his father pacing back and forth in the guest bedroom at night. 

He can _see_ him sitting in the dark of the living room whenever he goes to get a glass of water. 

“And I love you too.” Hongjoong smiles tightly.

He isn’t lying either, he really isn’t. This isn’t normal, as much as he wishes it was. If his parents fought once a week, it would be easier to hate them. But these fights come in between years of peace, between so many good times that when the bad times hit, they almost hurt more. 

Because his father isn’t a bad man, he’s just a tired one. Some days Hongjoong doesn’t know what’s worse.

“You two ruined my night,” Hongjoong says truthfully because as much as it was his father’s poor temper that got the best of him, it was also the instigator in his mom that probably made it so much worse. “What am I supposed to say to… to Yunho?”

“That your parents fucking suck.” “Well I think he can make that assumption by himself.”

And his father laughs for the first time in days, a small smile graces his lips then it is gone the second he feels it. It’s like his father is punishing himself, that he can’t be happy after all that he did. 

“Don’t do that, mom already forgave you and I did too. You don’t have to keep… doing whatever is you’re doing.” Hongjoong waves his hand as if it helps his argument. 

“You know I won’t, not for a while at least.” 

_I know, I’m like you in that way too. It’s not healthy, you aren’t healthy._

“I’m sorry.” The words sound like the patter of rain, somber yet welcoming, especially after a long drought. 

Hongjoong stands up and his father follows in suit. But when Hongjoong goes to hug him, it’s like the old man never realized that’s what was going to happen. 

He tucks his head into his father’s neck and takes in a deep breath. It isn’t often when he gets to hug him for longer than a couple seconds, but this time it feels like he won’t ever let go of his son. 

They stay like this for maybe too long, Hongjoong doesn’t mind though because he can hear his father sniffling and he wonders when was the last time someone held him like this. God knows it hasn't been anytime soon, his mom isn’t the comforting type. 

When Hongjoong pulls back, he rubs his thumbs under his father’s eyes to push away the tears. He smiles up at his old man and just nods his head. 

And when his father nods back with a laugh escaping his lips, he knows they are going to be alright. 

His mom avoids eye contact as she rubs at her forearm; his father stands a couple feet behind her with his head hanging low. Hongjoong packs the car by himself in silence. 

What an embarrassing sight it is to behold. 

Hongjoong hugs his mom first and lets go the second he can. She walks past him the moment he lets go and goes to the passenger door that is still open. He hears her saying bye to JFK as if she ever liked him. Hongjoong rolls his eyes when he reaches his father. 

“If you need anything, just call.” Hongjoong says into his father’s ear. The old man nods and claps him on the back, Hongjoong tries not to gasp for air. 

He piles into the car and waves goodbye, not bothering to say thank you for having him because well… (what is there to thank for when he is going back 2 weeks earlier than expected). 

And there further Hongjoong drives away from his house, the calmer he feels. The anxiety that has been settling into his bones for the past couple days releases. His shoulders and back hurt, he is tired beyond belief and God knows he hasn’t slept since the fight, scared another one will occur in his sleep. 

All the fear he can manage to hold in his body in the forefront of his mind. 

“We’ll be better back home.” Hongjoong murmurs to himself as he pats the top of JFK’s travel cup. 

If Hongjoong starts crying halfway back to school for the first time in a long time, no one will ever know. If the tears keep coming and coming as the stress of the week’s events hit him in waves, at least JFK is in the seat next to him. 

He hits the steering well until his palms feel numb. It’s so stupid how much he wants to scream on the top of his lungs, it’s even more stupid how it feels impossible to hold it in. 

But it is sort of nice when JFK pushes his cup enough to topple over his mushroom. Hongjoong lets out a watery laugh. 

_Who knew a crab could understand the concept of solidarity?_

And no, JFK in his travel cup did _not_ lay in Hongjoong’s lap for the rest of the trip. It just… rested there.

  


  


Yunho sucks at the area where Hongjoong’s shoulder meets his neck. The older moans at the feeling as he claws at him to get his shirt off (which seems impossible, fucking turtlenecks). 

The bags of shit that he accumulated over the winter break sit idle on the floor, sitting every which way as Yunho threw them over his shoulder while carrying Hongjoong in by the ass. 

Hongjoong’s stuff can wait for a bit, it’s not like he needs to unpack the second he got back anyway. He _would’ve_ unpacked if Yunho wasn’t waiting for him at the entrance of his apartment with sunflowers in hand. 

“Thanks for meeting me, ah, here.” Hongjoong chokes out as Yunho runs his hands over his body, lighting tiny flames whenever he manages to touch his bare skin. 

“No problem, especially now that I got you all to myself now.” Yunho bites into the older’s skin harder causing him to whimper. 

And Hongjoong hates how he relaxes at the words, feeling their comfort wash over him like his favorite childhood blanket. Safe, he feels… safe, which is a weird feeling to have after never really getting it. 

How he can’t even remember hearing those words from his own parents, the people who are supposed to take care of him. He really didn’t need that fight between them to remind him how alone he really is, he is aware enough as it is. 

“Say it again.” Hongjoong doesn’t beg perse, more like pleads (begs, begs, _begs_ ). His fingernails pierce Yunho’s skin and if he draws blood, the younger doesn’t flinch at the pain but saviors it. 

“I got you.” _Don’t start crying, don’t even dare start you fucking punk ass bitch._

“Joong, are you crying?” _Oh my fucking God I hate myself._

“No,” Hongjoong says then immediately pouts when his voice cracks. He pulls up his sweatshirt and wipes his face off before smiling bright. “I’m just really happy you are here after that whole… thing.”

Yunho pulls back to look at him. Hongjoong turns his head away, getting nervous under the younger man’s gaze. Two fingers under his chin gets his eyes back on Yunho’s though. 

“I don’t think you could get me to run away even if I wanted to.” He whispers. Hongjoong swallows something akin to a sob and just nods. 

He puts Yunho’s hand on his chin and nuzzles into it. Everything feels so much softer now, there is less rush, need, want and more of this. More comfort and Hongjoong never thought he would like it. Not with how little of it he got when he needed it most. 

Honestly, he craves it more than he probably should. 

Yunho rubs his thumb across Hongjoong’s cheek. It brushes against Hongjoong’s lips and the older dares to peek his tongue out to lick the pad. He smirks when the younger’s eyes darken at the action. 

Hongjoong is seconds away from sucking the thumb in his mouth when he notices JFK’s travel cup shaking on his desk. 

And no, he doesn’t want to say that he pushes Yunho off of him, but he basically does. Yunho lands on his back with a bounce as Hongjoong struggles to get off the bed. 

“Oh my God, JFK, I’m _so sorry_ I forgot to put you back in your tank. I’m such a bad crab mom, come on let’s get you back in.” He mumbles to himself. 

In the background, Yunho laughs. 

“Aren’t we like, in the middle of something?” He says with no heat, but his words tease Hongjoong. 

“Oh shut the fuck up you big baby, I’ll suck your dick in a minute. Don’t you know crabs experience anxiety? I can’t do that to him, complex thought is a sin!” 

Yunho watches Hongjoong put water back in the tank and struggles to bring it over to his bookcase that is completely cleared of albums. More plants litter the tank than what he could remember and the gravel is a different color. 

Hongjoong puts JFK back in and cooes when the crab stands on his piece of land next to the mushroom rather than hiding the second he gets in. 

“I think he is finally warming up to me!” Hongjoong exclaims, hands on his hips. 

When he turns around, Yunho is just staring at him while resting on the elbows. The small smile on his lips makes Hongjoong laugh a little. 

“What’s that look for?” 

“Oh nothing, nothing. Just thinking about how good of a crab mom you are. Taking care of your children first then daddy second.” Yunho jokes, but it lights something new in Hongjoong’s chest (dick, he means dick). 

The older scoffs before jumping back on the bed, crawling on his hands and knees with a devilish look on his face, “who said daddy was second?”

 _Man, I need to stop saying embarrassing shit like that._

(Hongjoong lays on his side, the sheets are sticky against his skin and he needs to take a shower to clean out his ass before he gets cum shits (yes, that’s a real thing). 

But instead of getting up like he should, he stares at JFK’s tank. He counts in his head so he can measure his breathing before he spirals into something he can’t immediately get out of. It’s like he can’t shake off home, even a hundred miles away. 

Suddenly, he feels Yunho shift beside him. The younger’s arm finds Hongjoong’s waist and he pulls the smaller man into his chest. Hongjoong lets out a shaky breath, but finds himself settling into the embrace faster than usual. 

“I got you.” Yunho whispers into his damp hair and Hongjoong lets out a sob. He doesn’t want to cry, but he doesn’t really know what to do with his emotional state all out of wack. 

“I know.” _Can’t you see how much you mean to me, I swear to God it feels like it’s all over the floor. I can’t keep it from spilling anymore. You’re pouring from my mouth; you’re all over my teeth._

Hongjoong just keeps that thought to himself for now and remembers the sunflowers perched in the kitchen).

  


  


Seonghwa and Yeosang watch from the couch as Hongjoong goes back into his room, again, for quite literally the billionth time that night. 

Luckily the food Seonghwa prepared at his own place is already in the oven. Everyone should be over with the next half hour, and along with a plus one. Other than Mingi who went to high school with Yunho, the rest of the group hasn’t even seen a photo of Hongjoong’s new… whatever he is. 

Except Yeosang, but he is quite tightlipped about it. Seonghwa thinks it’s because he saw his dick on accident or something. 

“Stop worrying about the crab, you already looked it up. If he loses a leg ‘cause he’s molting, then he loses a leg. He’ll just grow back another one!” Yeosang says, spinning around his glass of whatever the hell he is drinking with a limp hand. 

“I know… but you know, he was a gift so I’m just making sure he’s okay.” Hongjoong mumbles, walking back into the living room holding one arm by the elbow. 

_He isn’t only a gift now though,_ Seonghwa’s mind coins in as Hongjoong goes over to the sink to fill up more fresh water in what they deemed ‘JFK’s cup’. He places it on the ‘JFK towel’ next to the ‘JFK spoon’. 

Yeosang told Seonghwa over the phone a week ago that he can’t even find half of their tupperware, but JFK’s extra gravel has now been magically ‘taken care’ as Hongjoong put it. 

“Come on, you fed him and he is moving around just fine. Sit down and stop stressing yourself out.” Seonghwa waves a hand for Hongjoong to join them on the couch. 

Hongjoong drags his feet through the rug and sits down on the abundance of lounge pillows they have resting on the ground. He pulls his legs up and wraps his arms around his knees so he can rest his head on them. 

“Don’t look like we just shot your dog, Yunho is gonna be here in like 20 and you’re more worried about your crab’s exoskeleton?” Yeosang says before getting off his ass to go to the kitchen. 

“You need a drink…” He mutters under his breath but Hongjoong just shakes his head. 

“No no, I’m good.” “You haven’t touched alcohol since being back, and you’ve been here weeks longer than I have, what gives.”

“Nothing, just not in the mood I guess.” Hongjoong looks to the side, out the window that stares directly into another one. 

They rarely have the blinds up because of this, but Seonghwa hates it when they are down. And really, there is no such thing as compromising with the older, especially about things like natural lighting. 

Migung enters the living room with a soft noise and a big stretch. She makes her way into Hongjoong’s lap and curls into herself for another nap, not even bothering to get under a blanket like she normally does. Seonghwa cooes as Hongjoong rolls his eyes, but still pets her nevertheless. 

“Do you think you’ll have Jongho bring Kuki up here again?” Seonghwa asks Yeosang, changing the subject to something probably even more annoying to talk about if you asked Hongjoong. 

“You’d think a giant wet dog at age 11 wouldn’t go chasing after a cat, but I guess we were wrong…” 

Hongjoong laughs remembering how Kuki completely lost her footing trying to get Migung who was not having it one bit. Kuki is usually so tired after getting a bath (she spends all of her energy shaking like a leaf) so they were all shocked when she fucking ran at Migung. 

There was… a lot of screaming to say the least. 

San and Wooyoung are the first to arrive. Wooyoung brings in a bottle of wine that only Seonghwa will drink because he is a kiss ass (and accidently scratched the older’s car while driving it the other night). 

Jongho comes up from the 3rd floor to the 4th when he learns that he isn’t the first to arrive. Yeosang bumps hips with the youngest the second he walks into the apartment, causing him to blush. 

And now that most of them are here, Hongjoong does find himself getting nervous about what he should have been scared about all along. 

His friends - Mingi (and Yeosang, he’s seen Yunho’s dick) + Yunho = …?

“Oh God why did I invite him.” Hongjoong says to himself as he watches Wooyoung get a green olive stuck up his nose 10 seconds after opening the jar. 

“What are you whining about, we’re great!” Jongho smiles wide as he hits Wooyoung’s back, causing the olive to skyrocket out of his nose. 

Of course that’s when Mingi and Yunho decide to show up. 

Everyone stays still where they are except for Wooyoung who is now coughing as he chokes on his own spit. Hongjoong just buries his head into Migung’s belly, only to pull away when she sees it as an invitation to claw at his face. 

“Well you guys know how to get a party started.” Yunho states before showing a case of beer that isn’t the cheap shit they usually buy. 

“I like this guy.” Jongho points at Yunho before going over to introduce himself. 

_If I kill Wooyoung, I’m pretty sure everyone in this room will help me hide the body,_ Hongjoong thinks as he stands up, brushing off the fur left by Migung. 

He knows he should be introducing Yunho to everyone right now. Tell him about the time Yeosang and he got chased by a wild boar when they were 12, how he met Jongho when he was just a freshman in high school. 

How Wooyoung just showed up one day and Hongjoong said: _fuck it, what’s one more when you already have 6._ How Seonghwa was a one-night stand (more like a 4 month night stand) who ended up becoming one of his most important friends. 

But as Hongjoong stands against the doorframe, watching Yunho shake everyone’s hands (and get a couple hugs too), there really is no reason for Hongjoong to interfere. Because sure they went on a date, but they also have done a lot of other things that don’t line up as ‘boyfriend’ material. 

And Hongjoong doesn’t even know if he wants a boyfriend! Relationships are so hard, and so pointless when they just end in— 

“You good?” San bumps his shoulder against Hongjoong’s. He hands the older a glass of something that smells like death reincarnated. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Uh, but can you look at JFK?” Hongjoong nods his head back towards the tank in his room. 

“Of course, what’s up with the dude?” They walk side by side, leaving the chaos in the other room. Leaving the scene where Seonghwa pulls Yunho to the side for just a split second. 

“One of his legs must have gotten weird when I was back home or something.” Hongjoong murmurs, pointing at the limp leg his crab has developed. 

His leg is shrivelled and curled into the crab’s body. San turns and twists his head around, trying to get a good look at the crab who stands right next to his pineapple like a soldier would his trench. 

“I think he’ll be fine, it’s winter so he should be molting soon… which I’m guessing you already know.” San smiles big enough for his eyes to disappear and it relaxes Hongjoong more than it should. 

“Thanks, I just got worried.” 

“I got you man.” _There it is again._

San pushes Hongjoong to go out and sit next to Yunho. He sees how relaxed the older man is tucked up against his new ‘friend’. It’s nice to see someone make Hongjoong smile for once. San turns back to look at the tank again and feels like he is missing something. 

But the water looks clean and isn’t too high or low, the gravel is worn in areas where the crab has found himself comfortable in. If a crab could look happy, San thinks they would look like this. 

When he walks back into the living room, JFK stands staring back at the group, picking at his own underbelly with both of his claws then eating whatever he managed to get off himself.

  


  


**From: appa**  
11:51: Send a photo of JFK’s new tank when you get the chance! 

**From: eomma**  
14:32: The girls want to see a picture of JFK  
14:34: Pls send one so I don’t look an idiot

 **From: minki**  
09:03: coworkers don’t believe me about the crab  
09:04: like wtf would i lie about you having one TT  
09:04: photo pwease uwu

 **From: strong big baby**  
12:42: Just want u 2 know that I used a photo of JFK for class  
12:43: Paired that bitch up with Kuki

 **From: yunho-ah~~~**  
20:57: How’s JFK doing?  
20:57: I know you’ve been worried about his leg so  
20:58: I hope he is doing good now!  
20:59: And I hope you are doing okay too

  


  


Hongjoong should’ve just given up on the week the second he slept through his econometrics exam. 

He wishes it could’ve just been any other class, one where he has 4 exams in so at least his grade wouldn’t completely tank. But no, of course it had to be in the one class where he has a single midterm and a final. 

40% of his grade, just down the drain. 

“Maybe you can email your professor about it. You said earlier that she is really nice and has complimented you a bunch on your work ethic and shit!” Wooyoung says while rubbing Hongjoong’s back. 

“You’ve been so fucking busy carrying all your group projects on your back man, you can’t beat yourself up for this tiny mistake—”

_Yeah okay, I missed class because I was tired. But I also missed class because I’m so fucking hungover. Why the hell did I let myself get talked into finally drinking on a Sunday night?_

“Tiny? This is my whole grade,” Hongjoong interrupts Mingi, just trying to keep his cool and only feeling slightly bad when Mingi pouts. “Now I have to drop the class! I’m gonna get behind, only God knows if I’ll graduate on time.” 

“Write an email, you never know.” Yeosang puts a cup of coffee in front of Hongjoong. 

His head hangs low, crying won’t help him or his case. It’s just an exam, which feels like the end of the world now but it won’t be forever. And for fuck’s sake, it’s only Monday. 

If he can get through today, he can get through the week. It’s how you bounce back after a mistake that matters, that’s what his father has always said. 

_Why doesn’t that comfort me like it used to?_

“Thanks for the coffee, and like coming over. I think I’m just gonna go lay down now though.” Hongjoong gets out of the barstool and makes his way back into his room (coffee and laptop in hand). 

When he closes the door, he can hear murmuring from beyond. He’s too… whatever to deal with it. 

Landing face first onto his pillows, Hongjoong is sort of glad he never changed out of his sleep shirt. He curls around his blankets and gets settled in; he isn’t leaving bed for the rest of the day. 

**From: sangie**  
18:33: dude you have to eat  
18:34: you aren’t going to make me force it down your throat right?  
18:48: unlock the door man, i can hear you breathing  
18:59: ):

 **From: yunho-ah~~~**  
19:12: I heard about your exam  
19:12: I just wanted you to relax a little bit last night?  
19:13: You’ve been so tense lately…  
19:14: I’m really sorry

Hongjoong reads the messages then locks his phone. He’ll deal with reality tomorrow.

  


…

  


“The data just isn’t right Mr. Kim.”

Hongjoong is a hairs width close to slamming his laptop shut and dropping out of college. Sure that would mean he wouldn’t be able to beat his father by getting a doctorate, but holy fuck, working at McDonald’s would be better than this shit right now. 

“But Sir, you gave me the go ahead to use this data weeks ago. I don’t understand what changed.” Hongjoong tries to reason. 

In the corner of his screen, he can see his face in a tiny box. The bags under his eyes are darker than the shadows that cast from his cheekbones. He hasn’t left bed all day, not to eat or go to the bathroom. Absolutely nothing. 

_And I’m about to go back to sleep after this meeting, data be fucking damned for all I care._

“The results aren’t right so something went wrong with it. Unless you go through the thousands of entries you made, all I can tell you is to start over. Make a new table, new equation, then hope for the best.”

Hongjoong’s shoulders sag, going through the amount of data he has could take me hours, if not days to do. He doesn’t have time to recreate the whole project from scratch either. 

“Can I have an extension at least?” He sighs out. Hongjoong brings up a hand to push back his grease filled hair, it sticks to his fingers and probably smells horrid. 

But the idea of even trying to get out of bed sounds like a whole event that he isn’t willing to do just yet. 

Enter depressing thoughts like: _I don’t deserve to get up anyway._

His professor looks at him with a pained look, as if it is hard for him to see one of his students in the position he is in, and yet, “I’m sorry Mr. Kim, but if I gave you an extension—”

“You’d have to give it to everyone else too. I get it.” Hongjoong finishes with little grace as he doesn’t even try to sound understanding at all. 

“Thanks for your time.” “Mr. Kim, is everything alright—”

Hongjoong clicks the ‘leave’ button on the bottom of the screen before closing his laptop softly. As much as he wants to throw the damn thing out of his window, he knows that the last thing he needs right now is a broken computer. 

He lays back down and wonders if the sweat building on his sheets is healthy for his skin. At least the bed is warm so any real worries he has over the possible break out his facing or how bad his roots are coming in slip away as he drifts off. 

Or drifts off until, “yo dude, you have to get out of bed.” Yeosang knocks against his bedroom door. 

“We’re worried about you.” “...” “Fine, don’t answer, but I just… I just wanted to let you know that we got you, you know?”

Hongjoong sniffles as he rubs his face into his favorite blanket, it still smells like home even though it has been months at this point since he has been back. 

“Just like how you always got us. You said it yourself, 7 makes— _8_ makes 1 team, right?” Yeosang’s voice is soft at the end which is rare to hear. 

And Hongjoong wants to answer, but he feels out of practice. What would he say: _I’m sorry that I’m such a piece of shit right now, but the world feels like it is collapsing on to me and I feel like I will never be able to do the right thing ever again?_

But he also thinks about how Yeosang really just added Yunho in when he didn’t have to. About the time where Hongjoong picked up Jongho after he got broken up with by his first girlfriend. About the time Wooyoung held back his hair when he was throwing up from a stomach virus.

About the time where Yunho watched him carry his own mother out from the house. How Yunho didn’t want to leave him alone, how he didn’t leave Hongjoong. It was him who left. 

_Why must I always feel like I have to be alone?_

  


…

  


Yunho brushes his thumb over the top of Hongjoong’s hand. 

“Thanks for coming out with me.” 

Hongjoong hums, the sun is bright in his eyes so he squints as Yunho and him walk across campus. When Yunho told him he was coming over, he just expected to be active _in bed_ which is, you know, better than what he was doing beforehand. 

But no, Yunho wanted him to go outside so here they are in the quad closest to Hongjoong’s apartment. 

He’s glad that he put a hat on because there are way more people outside than he expected. He still hasn’t showered and it is definitely becoming a problem as Hongjoong can start smelling himself. 

Yunho doesn’t seem to mind though as they sit down next to each other on a bench. 

“Thanks for dealing with my ass.” Hongjoong laughs as he looks at their hands. 

It’s a beautiful day, unfairly so. For how shitty he feels, it’s almost like a slap in the face to not see a single cloud in the sky. This day and all the others before it should be rain, wind, and quite possibly snow. Hongjoong wants to be covered cold. 

“Everyone goes through it, and I just really wanted to apologize again.” Yunho tries to smile, but it definitely looks more pained than anything else. 

“Don’t, it was my fault then it just sort of snowballed. I shouldn’t have drank that much. You aren’t my babysitter, you’re my—” Hongjoong cuts himself off and finishes it at that. Yunho pretends not to notice. 

“So… we’re cool?” “Yeah.”

They sit there in silence a little bit longer and just for a second does the wind pick up. Hongjoong shivers and wonders if he actually wants bad weather, or if he just wants another reason to be sad and pissed at himself. God he hates the snow. 

“Can we go get something eat and just hang out?” Hongjoong asks and doesn’t even wait to get up. He stands with a bounce and motions for Yunho to grab his hand. 

“If it’s with you, always.”

And sure, if Hongjoong heard this line in a movie he would’ve gagged at the cheesiness. But with how Yunho looks up at him with that stupidly glowing smile, his words just make him feel warm. 

A glimmer in Hongjoong’s heart hopes that maybe this week will pick as it goes.

  


…

  


**From: sangie**  
14:30: hey… i know you’re out with yunho but i think you should come back

 **To: sangie**  
14:43: ???

 **From: sangie**  
14:43: idk but fuck  
14:43: i think JFK’s dead

  


  


Hongjoong’s all-time favorite franchise is Star Trek (and it’s definitely the reason why him and Seonghwa were never going to work out). He is personally fond of the original series, the poor production design leaves something to be desired, but the storytelling captured his heart when he was young. 

All the times he would get back from elementary school and sit down next to his mom to watch an episode before doing homework still sits in the forefront of his mind. 

Don’t get him wrong though, he loves the new movies as well because who could really complain about Chris Pine playing Jim Kirk. 

His favorite scene (which isn’t really a shocker as every Star Trek fan likes it to a certain level) is when Spock sacrifices himself to save the Enterprise in the second original movie, _The Wrath of Khan._ Or when Jim did the same in _Into Darkness._

As much as the original scene hit bone deep, the new movie brought in a light that just got Hongjoong a little more. Maybe it was Spock running through the ship, his perfect hair getting out of place because he is panicking.

Maybe it was the shocking realization Spock has when he understands that Jim is going to die, and die right in front of him. That he is going to be the last person Jim will ever see before he goes. 

All of this transpiring just from a single call: _you better get down here, you better hurry._

So when Hongjoong gets a text from Yeosang, he doesn’t really know what to think other than he better get back home… and that he better hurry.

Hongjoong sits on the edge of his bed, his legs hanging heavy off the side as he stares off into space. He knows San is in the room because he can hear the sound of water sloshing. 

Yunho is by his side, holding one of Hongjoong’s tiny hands in his own. Yeosang watches Yunho try to get Hongjoong’s attention onto him instead of the tank, but to no avail. 

“I didn’t think you fed him this week so I came in here… and there he was.” Yeosang whispers. 

The last thing Hongjoong can remember focusing on before disconnecting was JFK’s tiny body standing at the edge of the tank, in between water and land. He looked fine, but the closer you got the more you could tell that he wasn’t… that he isn’t… 

“Fresh water.” San says suddenly, it isn’t loud or distraught but it is enough to finally pull Hongjoong out of whatever spiral he was entering. 

“What about it...” Hongjoong finally pulls his eyes away from JFK who sits unmoving, but remembers something from only a bit of time ago. 

_For the love of God, do not forget to fill the tank with brackish water._

Fuck, “I killed him.” 

And everyone crowds around him like he is a child who has just fallen off the swings for the first time. Yeosang sits beside Yunho and puts a hand on Hongjoong’s back. San takes the other hand that isn’t in Yunho’s. 

“I should’ve noticed it the last time you asked me. I knew something was off… no salt ring.” San looks directly into Hongjoong’s eyes, but only sees himself. 

“But I— I couldn’t even remember to do something as simple as that?”

Yunho places his chin onto Hongjoong’s shoulder, he kisses the side of his neck and rubs his nose against the soft skin as Hongjoong lets the first tear roll down his cheek. 

“He was… he’s just molting! Sometimes people think their crabs are dying but they are actually just doing that! Maybe he’s…” 

Hongjoong looks at the tanks and promptly sobs. JFK didn’t even hide away, didn’t go in between the plant he oh so liked or next to the mushroom he always pushed over when he was hungry or wanted clean water. 

He didn’t even go inside his pineapple, instead he stayed out in the open where Hongjoong could find him.

“He’s dead, Hongjoong.” 

_He’s just a crab so why does it hurt so much?_

Hongjoong wants to go home. He wants to go home and hug his mom and hug his dad and trust that they will wash away all the things that have tainted the edges of college. 

College was where he could be free, where the real world wouldn’t ever be able to touch him. Where he could go to the train tracks past midnight and not fear getting hit by a train. Where he could laugh too loud in the Union, having Chick-Fil-A for dinner for the 3rd time that week. 

Where he could go out drinking on Tuesdays with friends and go to class hungover without feeling the overwhelming guilt of becoming like his parents. 

But ever since winter break happened, it seems that the real world has other options. Where reality slips in at night and takes Hongjoong by the throat. Where it causes him to drink more, sleep more, and care less. 

Where it kills one of the few things that got him out of bed in the morning when things got tough. 

And the reality of it all is that if he went home, his mom would only hug him for a second before telling him to get his shit together. But his father, his _dad,_ would be the one to tell him everything is going to be alright. 

Hongjoong doesn’t really want either of those things right now. 

So he stays on his bed and cries softly. His tears drip down his chin and land in his lap. He wants them to be magical like Pokemon tears are so maybe he could bring JFK back like Pikachu did for Ash. 

He wants them to be powerful like how Spock punched Khan into unconsciousness due to all the fear, fear, _fear._ The fear of loss, the fear of regret, the fear of never getting back what was always yours. 

But mostly, he just wants this week to be over.

  


  


It’s Sunday and they are wearing all black as they stand in the corner of the parking lot of Hongjoong’s apartment. Everyone is wearing blac except for him due to the fact that he has no clue what the fuck is going on. 

He looks down at his tie-dye pajama pants that he vowed never to wear in public because he made them at 3AM one night during high school. Here he is, in those pants and in a long sleeve he stole from Yunho the first night he ever crawled into Hongjoong’s bed. 

Clouds litter the sky, they are dark and gray which usually calls for snow. However with how warm it has been, it may just rain which Hongjoong would prefer anyway. That doesn’t mean he wants to get wet for no reason though. 

“Okay, what’s up?” Hongjoong asks cluelessly. He couldn’t even imagine a reason why everyone would be here. 

Even Kuki and Migung grace them with their presence; Kuki with a black coat over her fur and Migung with a bow on her head. They look cute as fuck and it is unfair when Hongjoong is just standing out here looking like _this._

“We are here today to honor a fallen brother,” Mingi says with a sniffle. “JFK.”

Hongjoong hasn’t been paying attention. That can be blamed on the lack of sleep he has gotten over the last couple of days. He honestly didn’t mean to jump Yunho’s bones, but fucking feels better than staring at the ceiling wondering what the fuck went wrong. 

So when the 6 of them move to the side, Hongjoong just lets out a pained laugh and wishes he had a handkerchief like Seonghwa. 

Yunho is kneeling by the tiniest of gravestones. He brushes the dead leaves from it and places a small cross on top of it. Flowers from the wild bush across the street litter the area, and against the brown, it almost looks like it could be a fire with all the orange and yellow petals. 

The younger stands up and turns to Hongjoong, he holds out a hand for him to grab. Hongjoong takes it with shaky fingers. He walks closer to the grave and kneels down on both knees. 

****

**Here lies JFK the Crab**

****

**November 2020 — January 2021**

****

**Pushing Mushrooms Over in the Great Beyond**

And it would have been emotionally draining for Hongjoong to stand here in silence, so of course that means Wooyoung has to start speaking.

“I first met JFK at the pet store, and wow did he want to fight the person getting him out of the tank. Grade A bitch.” Wooyoung’s voice pulls Hongjoong’s attention away from the grave. 

He looks behind him to see everyone pulling out their phones and his heart feels so full. 

“I knew he was going to be the perfect pet for Hongjoong because he likes to bite too. I wish JFK made it longer so he could’ve seen the summer sun, I think… I think he would’ve really liked it. You know, compared to Hongjoong’s dark ass bedroom. Rest easy little dude.” 

Wooyoung wipes his face quickly and turns his chin so no one can see the second, third, and fourth tear fall.

“JFK is a stupid fucking name—” Yeosang starts, but stops the moment Hongjoong stands back up, brushing off the dirt from the nasty ground. 

“One second,” The younger glares at Hongjoong like he just killed his first born instead of interrupting him. “But who’s… who’s idea was this?” 

Everyone stays silent for a second, shuffling on their feet and Jongho starts to whistle. Seonghwa sighs before pushing Yunho out in front of the group, the younger stumbles a bit but manages to get his footing before falling on top of Hongjoong. 

“He texted us at 2AM for this.” Is all Seonghwa says, clearly ready to go back to bed once this is over. But hey, at least he is here. 

And Hongjoong thinks of fear when Yunho nervously looks around so he doesn’t have to make eye contact with him. He thinks about fear and broken tablets, too demanding jobs, and the smell of alcohol on someone’s breath.

But he also thinks about the fear of losing something you hold dear to your heart, the fear of regretting all the words you could’ve said but never did, the fear of never getting back what was always meant to be yours. 

All that fear builds up in Hongjoong and like a teapot ready to scream out steam, he absolutely explodes. 

Yunho’s eyes widen when Hongjoong pulls him by the collar and smashes his lips to his. He manages to steady them by placing his hands around Hongjoong’s waist as the smaller man tries to crawl up him as if he is a tree. 

“I really, really like you, Jeong Yunho.” And when Hongjoong says those words, it feels like the world is finally back on balance. 

The younger smiles bright as he puts both of his palms on Hongjoong’s cheeks, “I really, really like you too, Kim Hongjoong.” 

Even though the sky is gray and they are standing in a parking lot where crackheads shoot up sometimes, there is nothing keeping Hongjoong from glowing the way Yunho always does. 

“Okay this is cute and all, but can we finish our speeches because I really need to do the homework I pushed off.” Jongho butts in, causing Hongjoong’s glow to disappear in a blink of an eye. 

The look he gives his friends is enough to get them running. 

“We’ll finish the speeches at family dinner!” San yells before being pulled away by Wooyoung. The parking lot door shuts with a bang, leaving Hongjoong and Yunho alone. 

“Thank you, this is… thank you.” Hongjoong shakes his head as he laughs. Never in his life did he think he would be a crab owner, let alone attend a crab funeral. 

But if he ever has to do it again, he will be sure to contract Yunho. 

“Like I said, I got you. Always.” Yunho says with all of his teeth and Hongjoong thinks he will never tire of him.

  


  


_Okay maybe instead of getting tired of him, I’ll just kill him instead,_ Hongjoong moans to himself as he elbows Yunho in the ribs. He is just trying to get comfortable in bed, but it seems near impossible when you have an oversized puppy in it. 

Especially an oversized puppy who won’t stop talking with his giant hands. 

“What, you’ll need a new name for your next crab! What’s so bad about Precious?” 

Hongjoong cackles as Yunho pouts, there is a lot wrong with that name but Hongjoong doesn’t even have the energy to go into it. 

“It doesn’t follow the 3 letter pattern, and I don’t even know if I’m gonna get a new crab.” Yunho rolls his eyes, not believing a single word coming out of Hongjoong’s mouth. 

Turning on to his side and propping his head on his hand, Yunho looks at Hongjoong looking back at him. The moon shines in through the window, Hongjoong decided at the last second that it would be nice to have some lighting for once. 

Yunho likes it because he can see the older’s pointy nose and the hair curling up from the nap of his neck. So it’s a win-win for everyone. 

“Hey I was wondering, what did JFK even stand for?”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a moment, he wiggles around on the bed and accidentally knees Yunho in the dick, causing the younger to groan out in pain. But even after that, he still doesn’t say a word. 

“It couldn’t be,” Yunho hisses out. “That bad.” 

Hongjoong mumbles into his blanket, causing the words to slur enough for Yunho to not be able to decipher a thing. He gives the older a look that reads: _what the fuck was that,_ which causes Hongjoong to moan in defeat. 

“Just a Fucking Crab, okay?”

Yunho blinks once then twice. 

“You named… your crab… a gift… Just a Fucking Crab…”

Hongjoong nods with little shame on his face, “crab but with like… a K, so JFK.”

Yunho nods back understandingly. 

“Okay, maybe you shouldn’t get another one.” “ _Hey!_ ”

  


  


**Author's Note:**

> (+ hongjoong and yunho get another crab named KFC, kill that one within the month, then give up aka buy a stupid fucking betta fish).
> 
> this fic is dedicated to my late crab, JFK (and recently my other crab KFC lmfao don’t let me own pets). 
> 
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/travelingsymphony)


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